The Vision
by DjDownes
Summary: Two brother orcs set off on an adventure that will  hopefully  save Durotar! Let the adventure begin!


The hulking figure roared in frustration as yet another arrow whistled by his target's head.

His target was more than merely a sand bag that the latter was used to 'battling'. He shouted an intimidating battle-cry as he charged his target, pointing his large sword at his opponent's chest; fortunately for his enemy, he brought down his own knife which he had previously unsheathed, pointing it at his target to knock the sword off-course and averting any danger it had previously posed. The figure brandishing the sword attempted to kick his opponent's legs from under him with a swift kick to the thighs with such force that his enemy was thrown to the floor, his bow and knife toppling to the floor.

The huge figure stood on the smaller – yet nonetheless intimidating – figure's chest and brought his sword up to swing for the figure's head, but inches from him, the sword stopped and was sheathed back into its holster in one movement on the large figure's hip. The one on the ground let out a sigh of relief and held his arm out, indicating for the other to help him up.

"Well fought!" the huge one grunted, pulling up the sprawled figure.

"Nearly had you brother!" the other laughed, squinting at his friend, his large, green figure bent down to pick up his fallen weapons.

The two orcs walked through Orgrimmar in silence. The imposing, yet… oddly homely walls of the city always made Roagh feel safe; although very large, the city always seemed to be full to the brim with the muscle-bound orcs, the _huge_ Tauren, the mischievous Goblins, the crafty Blood Elves -though the Elves rarely passed through preferring to stay in their homeland – and the rotting Undead. The brother's home was situated close to the rear entrance of the fortress, so it was a lengthy trek from one side to the other. Once they had reached the house they had always built up a healthy appetite!

The orcs, even prior leaving their house in The Crossroads – after their mother and father had passed away – had moved into a small abode, on account of them being siblings and best friends. Oagh, being the oldest, had to act as his younger brothers guardian, although after today's battle Roagh had shown he was able to look after himself; even so, he felt obliged to stay by his side, if only for company...

Roagh and Oagh both slumped to their beds, all their muscles aching with the stress of the day's two brothers dropped onto their straw beds and almost instantly fell into a deep slumber, the day catching up to them; although his eyes shut immediately, Roagh's eyes wouldn't stop darting back and forth through his skull, as though looking for an adversary in the shadows. The orc was having a… _nightmare?_ Quite uncommon for an orc as they were taught to face their fears as a child. The orc was having visions of: _a mountain? Hooded figures? Was that a- a demon? A blade aflame?_

The dreams faded to black, his dark blue eyes drank in sunlight and he sat up in his bed. He glanced over to the bed to his right and his larger brother was still fast asleep, snorting like a wild boar.

Roagh needed to find out what this dream meant. He had a saying that went 'do not ignore the signs, follow your heart,' and his heart was currently telling him to visit the City's high shaman, Birag. He pulled on his sandals and crept out of the house. His wide feet kicked up dirt as he stared into the distance mulling over his dreams. 'What do they mean?' he mumbled to himself as he took the lift up to the elevated platform known as The Drag.

As he approached the door of Birag's hut and brought up his arm to knock on the straw door, it suddenly swung open; a figure wearing a robe with a hood pulled over his head smiled at the far younger orc's reaction, a wide mouthed grin.

"Come on in," the Shaman croaked, shuffling into the living area and signaling for the boy to sit. "What need do you have of me, Roagh?"

"Well, high shaman-" Roagh began.

"Call me Birag, boy."

"Okay... Well, _Birag_… last night I had a dream, and I believe it is a sign from the Gods!"

"And this dream _was?"_

"The dream wasn't exactly clear; it was just flashes of, a mountain with hooded figures with the figure of humans chanting atop it. Then I saw a, well I think it was a demon. A Fel Guard like the ones in The Battle of Mount Hyjal..." The shaman was silent for a few minutes, mulling over all the boy had said.

"I think this may be a sign, maybe it is your job to stop this demon. However i am but a lowly orc, i must console the gods..."

Birag went into a trance, attempting to contact the gods his eye took on a red hue and rolled back in his eyes, Roagh heard a low drone, he glanced about wondering what was waking this noise but then he noticed the orc was making the his eyes had re-focused he stared deeply into Roagh's eyes.

"The gods," he said gravely, "say, "Travel north! Stop this threat to the world! If you avert this danger you will be hailed as a hero!""

As the shaman was telling Roagh what the gods had told him his eyes slowly lit up at the thought of being a hero.

"High Shaman, if all of this is true, then I must head north_ immediately_!"

The senior Orc gestured to the door.

"Well, go then! Stop this threat to the horde and do not look back!"


End file.
